I hated the idea of going away with that debt unpaid." "Are you--going away ?" asked Lenore, in surprise.
"Yes, rather," he replied, with a short, sardonic laugh.

He fumbled in a pocket of his overalls and drew forth a paper which he opened.

A flame burned the fairness from his face; his eyes darkened and shone with peculiar intensity of pride.

"I was the first man drafted in this Bend country....

My number was the first called!" "Drafted!" echoed Lenore, and she seemed to be standing on the threshold of an amazing and terrible truth.
"Lass, we forget," said her father, rather thickly.
"Oh, but--why ?" cried Lenore.